


Naked

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-15
Updated: 2009-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way to be naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked

Ray's elbow is sliding against the side of the tent with a rhythmic whispering sound; it's kind of distracting, but he doesn't want to shift away, doesn't want to change any-damned-thing that he's doing, because right now, with each slow thrust of Ray's hips, Fraser is getting more and more lost.

It's a good kind of lost, the kind where Fraser's eyes have rolled back under fluttering lashes, and it's like he's completely unaware of anything but Ray's cock moving inside him as evenly as Ray can make it. The kind of lost where Fraser has let go of all his rigid self-consciousness and is moaning faintly every time Ray pulls out with a little flick of his hips. The kind where Fraser's thighs are a lax weight in the crook of Ray's elbows, and Fraser is loose and open and taking Ray's cock easy, loving it, so lost in pleasure he's lost track of his embarrassment.

He's just so naked.

And Ray has to be careful right here, because even though he wants to say something, tell Fraser how hot he looks—say, _God, you're sexy, beautiful,_ and moan at the feel of Fraser's ass gripping him, milking him—Ray's learned a few things in the past two weeks, and keeping his mouth shut at moments like these is one of them. Because Fraser's eyes would snap open, awareness of what he's doing and what he looks like would come rushing back, and his face would get all red like his serge, and he'd stammer out something, or maybe rub his hands on Ray's chest or pull him down for a kiss, trying to distract him.

And then Ray wouldn't get what he wants, what he's been so patiently working for all this time—what he _still_ can't understand why Fraser is giving him. Ray can't remember if he ever saw Stella like this, if she ever let go like this, like Fraser is right now. But Ray doesn't want to think about it, because it'll just ruin his mood, and right now he feels like the king of fucking, because he knows no one's ever made Fraser look like this. More, he knows Fraser would never trust anyone else like this.

Fraser trusts him to _see_. To see him lick his lip, and make that tiny frown that says he's close, really close, and see Fraser reach between them and _touch_ himself, stroke himself, while he moans and shivers and arches his back with a gasp, and opens his eyes right before, looks straight at Ray and whispers—

"_Ray—_"

—and comes. Fraser comes with a sound of breathless surprise, jizz bubbling up through his tight fist, over his knuckles and onto his belly. His ass is clenching hard around Ray's cock, and Ray can barely stand it, can barely keep the same rhythm, shallow and fast and right _there_, but he does, because he's the king, he's the fucking king, and he makes Fraser groan again, a helpless sound that almost drives Ray insane.

Fraser gives a last shudder, and Ray pauses a second, holding still until Fraser's eyes open again, looking glazed over with pleasure. He's completely, totally undone. Ray did that.

Then Fraser whispers, "Ray, you too. You, too—" and gracefully slips his legs around Ray's waist with none of the awkwardness from before. Ray almost sobs when he makes that first, really hard thrust, lets himself be selfish and does it again, and again, while Fraser's hands come up to stroke his chest, and Fraser moans, "God, you're incredible."

Fraser's the incredible one. Warm and soft and tightening around Ray's cock while he pumps in and out, and Fraser takes it, pulls on him with his legs, thumbs Ray's nipples until Ray arches back with a last, deep thrust and starts to come. He's been holding on so long the hard clench of his balls almost hurts, and then the pleasure hits like a shock wave, cock and balls and spine jerking and pushing, spilling into Fraser, who's holding onto him, holding him up while he shakes and groans.

Ray lets himself down into Fraser's arms, still balls deep inside him, and feels Fraser kissing his face, his eyebrow, murmuring reassurances like Ray has been hit or something. Which he kind of has, except not by a bullet, more like a truck. But it's good here, it's sweet in Fraser's arms, and Ray's glad Fraser finally let him keep the lantern on, because when he lifts his head he can see Fraser's eyes, deep and kind and as awed as Ray feels right now.

Naked.

A weird tightness grabs Ray's chest, and he wants to say things to Fraser, stupid stuff, mushy stuff. Maybe he could get away with it right now, the way Fraser's looking at him. But Ray's mouth opens on a yawn instead, and Fraser smiles, eyes crinkling.

"I'm glad you find my company so stimulating," Fraser kids softly. So, Ray loses his chance to say it, because they're shuffling around now—Ray pulling out carefully and settling on his side, Fraser using something to clean them both up a little. Then Fraser turns down the wick, snuffing the light, and settles back into Ray's arms.

_Next time_, Ray figures. He knows the way now. And maybe next time Fraser will find it even easier to let go like that, and maybe Ray will be able to trust him back and say the words.

Because they're waiting, there on the edge of Ray's mind, like open hands reaching out in the dark.  
....................  
2009.01.17  



End file.
